full faith scalliwags trudge through the butt rain of vincent the postman. she hadn't seen villains like this before in her time spent in france collecting vintage baseball cards. if it weren't for the raisins outside the window, no one would know the sky was just another representation of jupiter. let us all pray... oh lord... let us take our daily bread with confidence as we dredge the bottoms of easter vacation.
Tinfoil revelation tore through midnight sawdust at the egging on the sonic soundblade - bibbit bibbit - delectable delectro-cution bzzzarp - and the rumbling train of maybe friday, mayday, slips into a silken revelry.